


The Long Way 'Round

by LondonSpirit



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Boys Kissing, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Late Night Conversations, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Moving On, Nightmares, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Slow Build, Sort Of, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Survivor Guilt, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonSpirit/pseuds/LondonSpirit
Summary: Tony's got rescued and is back on a post-snap Earth. He lost everything.  He's plagued by guilt, grief and nightmares. He's given up.Steve tries to keep going. He lost the fight. He can't sleep most nights, but he's not giving up.They keep meeting at night, at their worst, their most vulnerable, reluctantly sharing coffee, and each other's company.And maybe not all is lost.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 133





	The Long Way 'Round

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, unfinished. Lockdown got me writing again, and so I finished it.  
> Unbeta'd.

Tony was curled up in the window seat, staring out into the night. A cup of coffee sat on the table by his elbow, steam curling up towards the ceiling. It was late; only the emergency lighting illuminated the large room, casting everything in a blue'ish glow.

He couldn't sleep, hadn't been able to ever since he'd gotten back.

He had seen the glances Rhodey had cast his way, worried and pained. But as long as Tony took his meds, ate what was put in front of him and went to bed at a reasonable time, he left him alone. He knew he had issues, but he didn't need anyone to tell him that.

So after everyone else went to bed, he came here, making some coffee and staring into the darkness outside the compound. At least it wasn't the darkness of space, too bright with all its stars and suns, and not the terrifying nothingness he saw whenever he closed his eyes.

Taking up the cup, he sipped, the bitter drink burning in his throat. He contemplated spicing it up with alcohol. He instantly dismissed the thought though. Because deep down inside he knew it wouldn't help.

Soft footsteps broke the silence. Tony looked up, his heart clenching in a brief panic. Then he recognized the face and exhaled.

"Oh, hey," Steve said, stopping in the doorway.

His entire body language was hesitant, something Tony hadn't seen in him in all those years. He'd always been secure, always known what to do and how to behave. Captain America - the culmination of honor and American values.

The man in the door wasn't Captain America. All Tony saw was a weary man, as troubled and unable to sleep as Tony was. Which was why he acknowledged him with a sharp nod, too worn out for words. Everything hurt, even breathing was painful at times.

Steve stood there for another moment, his uncertainty as clear as day. Eventually he straightened his back and headed towards the coffee maker.

Tony absently watched him go through the process of adding coffee into the machine, filling it with water and pushing the button. He then reached for the cupboard, picking a mug from the vast variety they had added through the years.

The machine spluttered. After a few minutes the smell of coffee filled the room.

Steve gently took the pot, and filled up his mug. But instead of putting it back, he turned towards Tony, holding up the pot in a mute question.

Tony instinctively eyed his own mug, which was almost empty. He shrugged and held it up.Steve walked over, poured him another cup. His hand was shaking slightly.

After putting the pot back, he came over, cradling the mug in between his large hands. He cleared his throat, making a small gesture towards the other side of the wide nook Tony was sitting in.

Tony looked at him; he was all soft confusion and strange insecurity, deep shadows underneath those blue eyes. He shrugged, but at the same time he pulled his feet under himself, making space for him.

Steve exhaled audibly and carefully lowered himself into the furthest corner.

He felt Steve‘s eyes on him every now and then, but eventually he stopped, staring out into the night, sipping his coffee.

The silence between them was charged, yet strangely fitting. They had nothing to say to each other. Tony had said his piece right after he came back to Earth, had let Steve known what he thought about him. They hadn't talked much after that. Steve had tried, but Tony had blocked every attempt. There wasn't much left to say. Right now the only thing that kept him from walking out on him was his bone-deep exhaustion. Tony Stark, too weary for a fight, he thought bitterly, that‘s a new one.

"It's 5am, boss," Friday quietly announced at some point. Which was a bit moot, as he had programmed that alarm to stay out of Steve‘s way. The Captain was an early riser, and Tony didn‘t want to run into him.

"Thanks," he muttered anyways, slowly sitting up from his curled up position. He groaned as he got to his feet. He was still weak and his body wasn't entirely under his control.

Steve reached out a hand, probably not even thinking about it. Must've been second nature to him by this point.

"Don't," Tony spat out, instinctively moving away from him. He knew if he'd touched him, he'd shatter. He wasn't ready for that. Maybe never would be. Right now he was still in shock, his brain was still trying to process everything. Their failure, their defeat. But mostly his own losses. Pepper. Peter. Those hurt the most - losing the very few people he came to call family over the past 10 years. He still had Rhodey and Happy, and he knew he should be grateful for that.

But he'd happily exchange the man sitting right in front of him for the woman he'd wanted to marry, or the smart young man he‘d come to think of a son.

He knew he was unfair. None of those left behind had chosen to be here, it had been a cruel game of chance. Still, seeing Steve's face while he was still mourning didn't help to grow more friendly towards him.

Steve seemed to sense it. Holding up his hands in surrender he sat back, purposely looking out the window.

Tony staggered over to the sink, put his mug into it and slowly made his way to his rooms. He could feel Steve's gaze on his back.

***

Days passed, turned into weeks.

After the failed mission to recapture the Stones, things just fell apart.

Tony kept track even though he sometimes wondered why.

Bruce basically lived in his lab and only came out when forced.

Barton was gone. He'd left in the middle of the night without a trace. Natasha was just a shadow of herself. There were days when Tony thought he heard her cry in one of the empty rooms.

Steve was the only one who at least tried to keep an appearance of normalcy, but even he was helpless.

'Useless', a small voice in the back of Tony's head hissed. He shut it down less and less, even though he knew he should.

***

Friday was tracking everyone's routines so that he didn't run into anyone. He couldn't be around people for long these days. He knew that being on his own wasn't good for him, but he wasn't able to endure anyone of the team for longer than a few minutes. Rhodey and Happy kept checking in on him, wanting to keep him updated on everything.

Not that there was much. The world was settling. It was tough, painful, sometimes impossible. But that's what people did - they moved on, kept going, tried to get their life back on track.

Not Tony.

Every once in a while he managed a few hours of sleep. More often than not though, he spent his nights in the large common areas, needing the spacious rooms around him to keep the panic at bay. Locked doors made him anxious, enclosed spaces caused terror.

As soon as the weather -and his condition- allowed it, he started to take walks in the vast grounds of the compound. At first Rhodey insisted on coming along. Tony let him, hoped his company would help.

It didn't. They tried to talk: about missions, about what had to be done, should be done. Very quickly they realized that Tony wasn't the least interested.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?" he yelled at some point during his nightly walks. Rhodey had gently nudged him into getting back to his workshop, had hoped that being on familiar grounds would help him.

"What do you want from me, Rhodes? New suits? What for? There’s nobody left to wear them. Because I won't get-" he stopped, tried to breathe through the massive panic attack the thought alone had caused.

"No, Rhodey, I'm out. Whatever you're planning or thinking, forget it." And with that he turned and walked away, leaving his best friend standing in the middle of a field.

He went and apologized a day later, and naturally Rhodey forgave him. He also stopped joining Tony for his walks. Rhodey and Happy kept checking in on him, made sure he ate, controlled his healing process, but that was it. The team sent him recordings of every meeting they held, always telling him that he was still part of something bigger. Sometimes he listened to them on his walks, just to have some sort of human interaction. More often than not he ignored it though. Friday archived them; she always seemed to know when he needed to hear some human voices.

***

Weeks turned into months. The world kept turning. Governments started functioning again, cities, countries were rebuilt, slow and steady.

The team helped where they could. It wasn't much, but it kept them occupied, made them feel needed.

One day they came to Tony, reluctantly asking for help: a simple robot that could help lifting heavy debris to start clearing out collapsed building sites around the state.

At first he declined; he wasn't in the state of mind to concentrate long enough to focus on anything for an extended amount of time. Yet he caught himself starting to sketch ideas on a piece of paper someone had left in the common rooms. At first it was just doodles, mainly to keep his hands occupied. After three nights he noticed the constant shaking was receding; holding a pen, drawing schematics onto the back of a SHIELD report stopped the tremors that made him avoid everyone and kept him awake at night.

The first time he stepped back into his workshop was painful. Nothing had changed since he'd last been there. Everything was just as chaotic as he'd left it.

He walked around aimlessly, touched unfinished projects, ran his fingers over cool surfaces, slowly inhaled the smell of oil and metal.

"Welcome back, boss," Friday said as he sat on his workstation, powering up his computer.

"Not sure about that," he replied, his heart heavy with grief as the screen flickered to life and showed him the last picture of him and Pepper. It had been on their last vacation, the one she'd insisted on.

They both looked so young, so careless. Tony's throat hurt as he moved the picture into a hidden folder. Then he needed half an hour to be able to control himself enough to open a few programs, take stock of everything.

Soon he lost himself in his work again, the familiar routines soothing to his frayed mind. His fingers remembered what they had to do, and before long he stood in front of a small sturdy robot that was able to lift hundred times its weight.

It was the first night he slept for more than two hours, dreamless and deep.

He tried it again, a few days later. Building something bigger -a droid that could detect precious metals- took him most of the day. He was exhausted after, mentally and physically, and he slept four hours in a row, waking up refreshed and hungry.

From then on it was almost too easy.

He started building whatever was needed to make the world function again. Natasha and Bruce sent him weekly memos; every once in a while one of them came down to the workshop, keeping him company or updated him on how his latest project performed out in the world. He barely noticed, too absorbed in his work.

Slowly but surely Tony's world became normal again. Different from before but nevertheless normal, and mainly uneventful, almost boring. He embraced the boring. Boring didn't kill anyone, boring didn't invade their planet.

He slept better, sometimes up to five hours a night, which was a huge step up. He ate regularly, either forced by Friday who cut the power if he didn't stop on his own, or by one of the team. He got used to being around people again; and every once in a while he managed to have dinner with Rhodey and Happy.

The only one he barely saw was Steve.

***

One night the nightmare that woke him left him shaking and in desperate need of fresh air. Rushing out of his room, he only realized that it was almost winter as he stepped out into the darkness and shivered violently.

"Shit, that's brisk," he muttered, wrapping his arms around himself. Nonetheless he took a few controlled breaths, letting the deep sense of calm wash over him that always came with being out in the open at night.

"Bit cold for pj's, isn't it?"

Tony jumped at the voice from behind, whirling around.

Steve was leaning against the side of the building, a frown on his face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said.

Tony waved a dismissive hand, still too rattled for words.

Steve only nodded, the obvious understanding on his face shooting a sharp pang through Tony's body.

They were all such damaged people. Each had their own misery, suffered their own terrible losses, and yet they still kept moving, kept at least trying to function normally.

They stood in silence, an unspoken understanding between them. Eventually Tony felt the cold too much to take solace from it.

He turned towards the door. Steve, who hadn't moved from his spot, jumped to open it for him, which made Tony snort and Steve blush for some reason.

"Why thank you, Cap," Tony said, "good to know that chivalry isn't dead yet." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Shut up," Steve muttered, but Tony heard the smile in his words. He grinned which felt strange. Rubbing his cold hands he walked towards the kitchen. He was wide awake, knowing that sleep wasn't an option right now. He felt Steve following him, and for the very first time he didn't mind his company.

Inside it was warm, and he didn't turn on the lights as he went through the process of making coffee. Steve was still there, leaning against the door frame; he felt his eyes on him. Tony ignored him as he took out milk and sugar, set it on the counter before retrieving two mugs. He filled them both, before looking up. Wordlessly he held one out to Steve, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Steve only hesitated one moment before stepping closer and taking it.

"Help yourself," Tony said, pushing milk and sugar towards him.

He sat on one of the stools at the breakfast nook, only now realizing how cold he was. Gritting his teeth, he tried to warm his hands on the hot mug.

Something thick and soft was put around his shoulders and he flinched in surprise.

Steve stepped back, holding up his hands, an awkward expression on his face. He walked around the table and sat opposite Tony, cradling the mug in his hands.

Tony reached up, keeping the heavy cardigan from slipping off his shoulders. He hesitated a moment before pulling it closer; he hadn't realized how cold he was.

"Thanks," he murmured, distracted by the warmth the garment was giving off. He took a deep breath, faintly noticing Steve's cologne in it.

"You looked like you needed it,“ Steve said softly.

Something hard and cold in Tony's stomach loosened, uncurled into a warm little ball.

The silence settling around them was thick, but for the very first time, Tony thought of it as somewhat comfortable.

They had settled into their new lives, because what else was there to do. There was nothing to change, only to improve. The world was still turning, and as much as it hurt, they had to keep going.

"I'm sorry, Tony.“ Steve‘s voice was quiet, yet Tony jumped at the sound.

"For everything,“ Steve said. "For not being able to prevent this. Even more so for not being able to reverse it. But most of all, I'm sorry for not saving them.“ Steve‘s blue eyes were sad.

Tony stared at him. His heart was thumping hard, and he didn't need Friday‘s scans to tell him that the pain in his throat has nothing to do with his too hot coffee. He took a few deep breaths. If there was one thing he'd taken away from the past, that he needed to forgive - his resentment had gotten the better of him most times, and he'd started to hate it. 

"It wasn't your fault,“ he admitted once his voice was steady enough. As soon as he said it, his shoulders slumped and he exhaled heavily.

Steve froze, fingers clenching hard around his mug. It was obvious he hadn't expected that.

"I know,“ Tony croaked, "I gave you shit for all of this,“ he waved a hand around. "But that‘s me being an asshole. You know me, you read my file: I don't play well with others. If anything, it‘s all our faults. Hell, nobody‘s fault. Who cares. It happened. We tried to change it. We failed. Not only you or me, all of us.“ He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "We have to move on. Some deal better, some worse.“ He grimaced a smile. "Some even more worse than others.“

He avoided Steve‘s sharp blue gaze and sipped his coffee.

"I had lots of time to think,“ he continued, voice rough, "the past months, alone, nobody to talk to.“

"Tony, you are not alone. We-“ Steve interrupted. Tony held up his hand, stopping him.

"I know. I couldn't. The only people I ever really talked to are gone. I did all I could, and yet I lost. I needed someone to blame.“ He looked up and into Steve‘s eyes. He shrugged.

"You were there. Always have been, steady as a rock, ready to take on the world. When I was a child, my dad told me about the great Steve Rogers. Told me I should be more like Captain America. And for a while I tried. Until I realized that nothing I‘d ever do would make my father stop comparing me to you. And then you came back, perfect as you've ever been. The hero the world wanted. Me? I was just a mechanic with too much money and too big an ego. Still am. Now with added PTSD and other assorted letters of the alphabet. People like us? We‘re too damn different to co-exist. We clash, we fight, we tear each other apart. But over the past months I've realized something.“

Tony fell silent, trying to collect his thoughts.

“I need you, Cap. And you need me. We need each other. As much as I wished I could stay on my own, I can‘t. So, this is me, holding out an olive branch to you. I will not apologize for what I've said to you, cause it‘s true. But I will also accept, that you and me are very different people, very stubborn, very stupid sometimes. But we're also very capable men, we get stuff done if we stick together. I can work with that. Question is, can you?“

Steve‘s face was still, only his eyes scanning over Tony.

He leaned back, exhaling. Telling Steve all this, basically vomiting his emotions into the man‘s lap, had left him exhausted. The silence stretched, Steve‘s face was still as stone.

Tony sighed, weary and worn out. He emptied his mug, pushing his chair back.

"Let me know if you've reached an answer,“ he said flatly. He ignored the sharp pang of regret in his chest as Steve kept staring at him. It had been ages since he‘d opened up like this. Doing so to the one person he had never really made his peace with, suddenly felt like a massive mistake.

“You know where to find me,“ Tony said over his shoulder as he walked away.

***

One week later Tony stumbled into the common room, desperately trying to shake another nightmare. He was still breathing hard, cold sweat soaking his shirt.

"Tony.“

Tony groaned; seeing Steve standing at the sink, rinsing a glass, was too much for him.

He shook his head. "Not now, Rogers,“ he muttered, torn between reaching for the liquor cabinet and leaving again. He wanted a drink very badly, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to do so under Steve‘s scrutinizing gaze.

Steve put the glass down a little too hard. Tony watched - morbidly fascinated - as Steve‘s face did something very complicated - it was like watching every human emotion flickering over his features at the same time.

Tony could see as he made his decision - whatever that was. It took Steve three steps to come to stand right in front of Tony. 

"Say stop and I‘ll do so instantly,“ Steve said roughly, and before Tony could even wonder, Steve had pulled him into a hug. Loose enough to escape, yet so tight that Tony‘s face was smooshed into Steve‘s neck.

All his muscles tensed, his fight or flight mode kicked in, and he instinctively pressed his fists into Steve‘s soft side.

"Want me to stop?“ Steve asked, voice cracking. He didn't loosen his embrace. He was trembling. Only slightly, but Tony felt it.

"No,“ he whispered tonelessly. Steve heard him anyways.

"Good.“ He pulled him closer, arms tightening around Tony‘s back.

Tony sank against him, grateful for the darkness around them. It had been too long since he‘d touched anyone, let alone hug. Rhodey had tried, when he first came back. He hadn’t been able to handle his hand on his shoulder back then, let alone a full body contact. He had made that very clear to Rhodey. He hadn't offered again. And Tony never asked.

Steve‘s body was solid and warm; Tony felt his racing heart slow down, his erratic breathing return to normal. Hesitantly he let his hands slide over Steve‘s hips; his back was too wide to wrap his arms around, but he tried anyway.

A sound escaped Steve, low and pained. And suddenly Tony realized that he was just as touch-starved as he was. He pushed himself up, holding Steve tighter. He allowed himself to stop thinking. Steve‘s shoulders slumped and he curled himself around Tony, fingers digging almost painfully in his back.

They stood like that for a long time. Somewhere in the depths of the compound a shower started. Steve flinched a little and loosened his hold.

Tony let go as well, arms falling to his side.

"Could've just asked, you know,“ Tony murmured, avoiding Steve‘s eyes.

"Would you've said yes?“ Steve asked defiantly.

Tony snorted. "Probably not.“

"That‘s why I didn't ask.“ Steve turned away from Tony and started the familiar routine of making coffee.

Tony watched him, mind blessedly blank. As Steve set two mugs on the counter, Tony sat down. Steve sat next to him, pushing the full mug in his direction.

"Black, right?“ he asked.

Tony nodded, surprised. "Yes. Thanks.“

They sat in silence, listening to the shower running. When it stopped, Tony turned to Steve.

"Was that your answer or just a spur of the moment? Which I'm not complaining about, by the way. You‘re a damn good hugger,“ he said, grinning sheepishly at the other man.

"I needed time,“ Steve said, ignoring Tony‘s jab. "Im sorry, I-“

Tony huffed. "Cap, we‘re all damaged people here, no need to apologize for that.“

"Do you know how hard it is to carry that much weight, that much responsibility and then fail so epically?“ Steve asked, his voice flat and cold.

"Yes, I do,“ Tony said, reigning in his automatic snappy reply.

Steve looked up, blue eyes narrowed. He watched Tony for a moment, then he nodded.

"Yeah, you probably do.“ He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "And yet, I used to carry it all whether I wanted or not. And now- well, I am a massive failure, I should've-“

Tony bristled. "You couldn't have known. How? Nobody could've. We were all just pawns in Thanos‘ sick plan. I'm tired of the blame game, Cap. Been there, done that, and let me tell you, it‘s no use to anyone.“

"I lost people too, you know,“ Steve said after a long pause. There was only the slightest bit of accusation in it. Tony accepted it.

"I know. And I‘m sorry for that. When you hurt, you can‘t see anyone else hurting too. Especially when you‘re a self-obsessed egomaniac.“ He snorted. "It gets better with time.“

"Does it?“

"Yes.“ Tony sighed deeply. "Might take a while in our cases.“

Steve made a sound almost like a laugh.

"It's a new start," Tony said, rubbing a hand over his face, "let's try to stick with that." 

"A new start," Steve repeated wistfully. It shot a sharp pain through Tony's heart. 

They fell silent; each deep in their own thoughts. A restlessness made Tony twitch, and it took him a long moment to realize that he tried to find something to somehow comfort Steve. Just like he had comforted him with that hug. 

"I miss 'em." Tony blurted out, making Steve jump in his seat. But his face softened a little, and Tony continued. A warm relief filled him as he talked. 

"The kid's the worst. He had no clue what he's gotten himself into." He could hear the guilt and the pain in his own voice. He didn't care. Not anymore. He knew Steve wouldn't judge him. He also knew none of the others would have either. But he couldn't live with the pity he knew would be on their faces.

Steve was different. He'd been where Tony was. There had never been pity for anyone on him. If anything, he understood. The darkness around them helped. He didn't have to look at him, and he was pretty sure, Steve wasn't watching him at all.

"Pepper was strong. She knew what she‘s gotten herself into. After all those years-,“ he stopped, the pain in his chest somehow less now that he was talking about it. "She went knowingly. The kid didn't. He was too young.“

Steve nodded, fingers curling around his mug. 

"It's Bucky for me," he said after a while. "I got him back once only to lose him all over again."

Tony took a sip of his coffee. A thought that had been buried deep down inside suddenly came up. He glanced at Steve who was staring into space.

"Bucky and you," Tony asked gently, not wanting to prey, but genuinely curious, "were you two-"

Steve huffed a small laugh, shaking his head.

"No. I wouldn't have minded tho." A dreamy expression crossed his face, and Tony held his breath. "He is-, was straight. And I didn't want to impose. Would've only complicated things." He shrugged, meeting Tony's eyes for a split second before looking away again.

Tony reached out and rested a hand on Steve‘s wrist. He had always been terrible at comforting people, it was all he could do. 

Soft steps sounded from the hall, and Natasha walked in, a towel around her neck. Her face softened as she saw them.

"Morning.“ She shuffled about, poured herself some coffee before peaking into the fridge.

"Care to join us for breakfast, Tony? That one-“ she pointed at Steve with a smirk, "makes some mean pancakes.“

Steve snorted, glaring at her. "Only because YOU are too lazy to make a proper breakfast and rather live off of toast and awful smoothies." He shuddered in disgust. 

"Well, it works, doesn't it?“ she replied with a smirk. 

Tony watched their friendly banter, some of the heavy weights on his shoulders lifting.

"Haven‘t had pancakes in a while,“ he said quietly, leaning back in his seat.

He didn't miss the soft smile blooming on Steve‘s face.

***

Time went by. The world kept turning. Routine established, inside the compound and outside. Tony kept building: robots mostly, self-sustaining energy-cells, water filtration systems, anything that was needed to rebuild the world.

He spent more time with the people around him. He still needed space, but he started to enjoy the weekly Sunday night dinners Natasha had started, if only so he and Steve could tease her mercilessly. She let them, with a twinkle in her too-sad eyes. 

He slept more often than not; every once in a while he even managed six hours a night. The nights where he didn't manage, or when nightmares woke him, Steve almost always waited for him, a pot of fresh coffee or tea on the table in the common rooms. He never asked how he knew; he figured he either heard him, or was plagued by nightmares himself.

They rarely talked; both had said their fill. And the silence between them had become comfortable, like a warm blanket in a cold night. 

Tony never admitted it out loud, but he'd come to enjoy Steve's company. And he had the feeling Steve felt equally. It was as if he was a different person at night, a softer, gentler, more understanding Steve. 

They sat by the window, looking out into the night. Sometimes they got dressed and wandered around the compound grounds, watching the sun rise. There were days when Steve made breakfast; pancakes, eggs, bacon, the whole shebang. Usually Natasha joined them and soon the kitchen was filled with quiet banter. 

And when everyone was there for a change, chatting, laughing, Tony pretended that all was right with the world.

***

One night Tony shot up in bed. It wasn't a nightmare that woke him; the dream was already dissolving, but he still felt a gentle warmth coursing through his body. He listened into the darkness of his room. Everything was quiet. And yet something was disturbing the silence of the compound. 

"Friday, what‘s the time?“ he asked as he scrambled out of bed. 

"2am, boss,“ she replied softly. 

Tony sat on the side of his bed, listening into the dark. Something was nagging on him. He grabbed a soft cardigan and stepped into the hallway. He wandered around aimlessly until he ended up at the library. It was barely used; Tony sometimes wondered why they even had one. 

Slowly he pushed the door open and peaked inside. The large room looked empty. 

But Tony almost instantly spotted Steve‘s curled up form in one of the reading chairs by the dark fireplace. Clearing his throat to not scare the other man, Tony walked closer. 

"Had a need for reading?“ he asked teasingly as he sat on the chair opposite. It was cool and he pulled the cardigan closer around his shoulders. 

Steve huffed a dry laugh, but didn't reply. 

Tony settled into the silence, feeling that Steve didn't want to talk. Faintly he wondered how he know. He shrugged it off. Things were in constant flux these days, especially between him and Steve. He didn't question it anymore. 

His feet started to get cold on the dark tiles. He eyed the fireplace. 

"Friday, is this functional?“ he asked. 

"Yes, boss. Want me to start-“ 

Tony waved a hand towards her sensors. "Nah, let me.“ 

"You sure, boss?“ she asked, a hint of disbelief in her tone.

"Hey,“ he said, getting up, glaring towards the ceiling, "I made one hell of a fire back in the days.“ 

"If you say so, boss.“ 

Tony grumbled under his breath as he knelt in front of the big opening. 

"Sassy woman,“ he murmured as he started to throw paper and wood onto the dusty grate. 

"You programmed her,“ Steve said quietly. 

"Not like that,“ Tony replied, concentrating on his construction. He could feel Steve‘s gaze on his back - and when did that stop being uncomfortable?

"Tony, that‘s not gonna work.“ Steve said, and even though Tony used to hate that tone, he smirked. 

"Well, gimme a hand then, boy scout,“ he said tersely, shuffling to the side. 

"I wasn't a boy scout,“ Steve said, kneeling next to Tony, "I was in the Army.“ 

"Same difference,“ Tony said, watching with an odd fascination how Steve efficiently build a fire and lit it. 

The wood had been laying around for a very long time and was dry as hay. It started with a sharp ‚woof‘ and they both jumped away, landing on their backs. 

Tony instinctively felt for his beard and eyebrows before he checked on Steve who stared at the burning fire. 

"Face still intact,“ he muttered, more to himself than to Steve. He heard him anyways and his hands went to his face. 

"You‘re good, you‘d feel it when your eyebrows get singed off,“ Tony grinned, shuffling a bit closer to the fire. 

"Speaking from experience, are you?“ The smile in his voice was audible. 

Tony shrugged, pulling the cardigan down from the chair and wrapped it around his shoulders again. "Possibly." 

"That‘s mine“ Steve‘s voice had an odd tone to it. 

"Huh?“ 

"The cardigan. That‘s the one I gave you.“ 

Tony frowned, looking closer at the soft wool around his shoulders. And it dawned him that he never gave it back. It still smelled faintly of Steve‘s cologne; which now was mixed with Tony‘s own. It was a nice scent. 

"Want it back?“ he asked reluctantly. 

Steve shook his head. "Keep it.“ He exhaled as if wanting to say something else. "Just keep it,“ he said; Tony instantly knew it wasn't what he had wanted to say. 

Instead of pushing for it, he only nodded his thanks and settled in front of the fire. He had the feeling that Steve somehow knew how cold he often was. Much more than before. 

The air around the fireplace slowly warmed up, and Tony got lost in the sight of the flickering flames, bright and welcome. He felt Steve settle next to him, quiet and pensive. 

"Would've been Buck‘s birthday today,“ Steve murmured after a long silence. 

Tony made a sympathetic noise, not knowing what to say. Birthdays weren't really a thing anymore. Just another day to mark that they made it another year. 

"We used to go for drinks," Steve said, eyes trained on the fire. "Before the serum it took only one or two beers to get me smashed." He chuckled; somehow it sounded melancholic. "After, I could drink him under the table in no time, and we both knew it. Yet he still tried. Bought the strongest liqueur he could find. After HYDRA-, well, he couldn't get drunk either. The-, the last time he had some weird Wakandan syrupy thing Shuri had mixed together. It stank like battery acid. Funnily it tasted like cherries. We emptied the whole thing in five minutes. And that was the first time in a very long time that I could feel any effect. It didn't last. Shuri said she wanted to keep trying." 

He fell silent again, sadness radiating from his curled up form. 

Tony looked at him for a moment, taking in his face in the firelight, all sharp, painful edges. 

"I can try," he offered, just to wipe the pain from Steve's face. 

He huffed a laugh. "You would, wouldn't you?" 

Tony shrugged a shoulder, shifting a bit closer to the other man. "Sure, why not. Can't be that hard to find something that can get Captain America plastered." 

Steve chuckled again, more genuine this time, and something in Tony'S heart loosened at the sound of it.

"For now," Tony said, scrambling to his feet, "I can offer a nice Scotch which is still fabulous even if it won't have any effect on you." He picked out the bottle and two glasses, and settled back next to Steve. He poured a good amount for them both and handed Steve a glass. 

"Here's to Bucky," he said quietly, clinking his glass to Steve's. 

"Happy Birthday," he whispered back, ignoring the single tear that escaped his eye. 

They drank in silence. Steve rolled the glass in between his hands before he looked up at Tony. 

"Bit early for a drink, isn't it?" There was a hint of humor in his voice. 

Tony grinned back. "Haven't had dinner so it's actually late," he said with all the conviction he could muster. 

Steve glared at him. "Tony, you need to eat." 

"Relax, I had a late lunch for a change, a big one even. Nat insisted. And then I fell asleep before dinner. I actually slept pretty well until now." 

Steve eyed him over his glass. "Why are you up then?" 

Tony shrugged. "I don't really know. I woke and something didn't feel right. Might've been the fact that Captain America was sulking in the library. Of all places." 

Steve tried to scold him even though his lips twitched into a smile. 

"I wasn't sulking," he muttered, taking another sip. 

"Fine. Not sulking. Still. The _library_." He waved a hand around. "There's so many other places. Is the common room not good enough anymore?" For some reason Tony's voice wavered, and he emptied his glass. 

"Wanted to switch it up for a change," Steve said, eyes twinkling in the firelight, "kitchen doesn't have a fire place." He tried to waggle his eyebrows which made Tony burst out laughing. 

"I can change that," Tony said, squaring his shoulders. 

Steve sighed dramatically. "Of course. Do you know how ridiculous a fireplace in the kitchen would look like?!" 

"Watch me," Tony shot back, looking around for a tablet. 

"Tony, no. No fireplace in the kitchen." Steve's voice was stern, but his shoulders didn't look as tense as before. Tony counted that as a win. 

"Spoilsport," he muttered, refilling their glasses. 

The fire flickered, casting everything around them in golden light. 

"Sometimes it's as if I can feel when someone has nightmares," Steve whispered. "Even if I myself don't have any, I wake up, sensing... something, I think." He shuffled, clearly uncomfortable. "Mostly I'm right." He tilted his head, gaze flitting over Tony before returning to the fire. 

"Is that why you're always there?“ Tony asked after a long moment. 

Steve shrugged. "I guess so.“

Tony nodded absently. "We're one messed up bunch," he said, emptying his glass. 

Steve didn't move, hands curled around the glass in his hands. "At least we're not alone." His voice cracked a bit, and Tony instinctively reached out, resting his palm on his shoulder. Steve exhaled sharply before relaxing again. 

The fire was dying down, and the cold settled further around them. Tony got up, stretching out the kinks in his back. 

"I think I go back to bed," he said. "Don't want this to become breakfast." He sat the empty glass on a table. He hesitated. "You okay?" He didn't want to leave the other man on his own. 

Steve scrambled to his feet; a lot more clumsily than Tony had expected. 

"I have something for you," Steve said. Tony stared at him, surprised. 

"For me?" he asked stupidly. 

Steve quirked a smile. "Yes. Something to return, actually." 

He left the room, and Tony followed him wordlessly. At the door to Steve's quarters, he stopped. Steve went inside and quickly returned with something in his hands. 

"Maybe you need it again. Some day. Anyways, it's not mine to keep." 

He grabbed Tony's hand, gently resting something cool into his palm. 

Tony stared down, Steve's hand still covering whatever it was. Slowly Steve pulled his hand back. Tony gasped. His heart. Right there in his shaking hand. He swallowed, cleared his mind. 

No, not his real heart, but the one thing that had been such a part of him, that, for a long time, he had seen it like that. The nanite casing he so angrily had thrust into Steve's hand when he came back. He had known that he would never use it again. He hadn't really missed it, but looking at it now, he felt how something deep inside him snapped back into place. 

He slowly turned it in his hand, feeling the nanites shift inside. For a very long time his life had been defined by this. And yet he had lived the past months without them, contently so even. 

"No," he said roughly, taking Steve's hand. "You keep it." He closed Steve's fingers around it. He wanted to say 'I don't need it anymore', but somehow the words were stuck in his throat. "Keep it safe," he croaked instead. 

Steve looked at him questioningly, blue eyes for a moment unguarded. Something in the air around them shifted, a thickening of a thought, an idea maybe, before it vanished again. 

Steve swallowed and very gently closed his other hand around the casing. 

"I will," he said with a solemnity that took Tony's breath away. "Until you need it again." 

Tony only nodded, his mouth too dry for words. He waved a hand through the air and turned, walking back to his room. 

He was lying awake until the sun came up. 

***

On the anniversary of Tony's return to Earth, he left the compound early in the morning. He drove around aimlessly, taking in the growing building structures along the way. Somehow he ended up at one of the remembrance areas. The sun was barely up, and the place was empty.

He sat in the car for a long time, before he eventually got out, taking a deep breath. The air was cool and fresh. Sighing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked towards the large stones scattered around the wide area.

He didn't read any of the names, knowing full well he'd only go and find any relatives to help them out financially if they let him.

Trying no to think, he kept wandering between the stones, brushing his hand over some of them. His heart was heavy; he felt the ghosts of those engraved all around him. But the longer he walked, the lighter his step became, a quiet peace settling over him.

When the sun came up behind the hills, he sat on the ground, leaning against the stone in his back, allowing himself to grief. It didn't hurt as much as it used to.

The soft sound of footsteps made him look up in alarm. He didn't need anyone to see him here.

"Just me," Steve said as he came around another stone.

"Stalking me, Cap?" Tony said, relaxing again.

"You wish," Steve shot back, a grin flitting over his face.

The sight of that made Tony's heart stumble. He frowned, rubbing a hand over his chest.

"You okay?" Steve asked immediately, crouching down to peer into Tony's face.

Tony nodded, shrugging at the same time. "Yeah. Just-" he rubbed again, shaking his head. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Steve sat down opposite, still eyeing Tony carefully. As Tony stared back, he nodded briefly and looked away. Tony took a deep breath. They were still adjusting to their fragile friendship, but Tony had made it abundantly clear that he wouldn't allow Steve to patronize him, no matter how well he meant.

"Ross called this morning," Steve said way too casually.

Tony snorted. "Let me guess. He wants to assemble the Avengers for the memorial."

Steve's mouth quirked into a joyless grin. "It took him ten minutes to get to the point, but yeah, that's what he'd like to happen."

"What did you tell him?" Tony hadn't bothered with a reply to the email he'd gotten last night.

"That I'd talk to you," Steve offered.

Tony scrambled to his feet, straightening his shirt. "You talked to me. My answer is the same as it always is."

"Tony," Steve said softly, "the world needs Iron Man. He-“

Tony sighed, shaking his head. "Stop it right there, Cap. I told you and everyone who wants to hear it. I am done. I do what I can from my workshop. That's all they get."

He started walking. Steve easily kept up.

"Tony, please, think about it. You can give hope to people, show them-“

Tony laughed, a hard sound that was painful to even his own ears.

"Nobody wants Iron Man. Nobody wants Captain America or anyone else. They never did. They only accepted us cause there were greater threats than they alone could manage. WE are the threat, didn't you learn that? WE are the ones attracting alien forces. Nobody wants us, and right now they don‘t even NEED us. What for? They are getting along just fine. I don‘t need the looks on their faces when they see me. Iron Man, broken and battered, not able to save their loved ones, not even able to save his own family.“ Tony ran out of breath. He shrugged angrily. "No, Cap, I won‘t go back out there where Im neither wanted nor needed. I‘m fine in here, doing what I do best, being a mechanic with too much money, trying to help from the shadows. It‘s what I do best now.“

Steve shook his head, eyes blazing.

"You‘re wrong, Tony, the world-“

"Shut it, Rogers, just stop talking!“ Tony‘s anger welled up; it broke free as Steve reached out to hold him back. He turned around, crowding into Steve‘s space, pushing him away. He didn't really expect a reaction. But Steve stumbled, surprised at Tony's action, his back hitting one of the stones. Tony glared at him, hands pressing into Steve's chest.

"I used to hate you," he growled through gritted teeth. "For exactly that reason: righteous till the very end, always obeying orders, yet never taking no for an answer. Do you have any idea how annoying that is for me?“

Steve suddenly deflated, defeat radiating from him like shock waves. "I know."

"And yet you keep doing it," Tony continued angrily, fingers digging deeper into the hard muscles. Steve didn't even flinch."You still keep going, doing what‘s ‚right‘, no matter the consequences.“

"I am who I am, Tony," Steve said, slumping against the stone. "I can‘t change it. Believe me, I tried.“ He bit his lip, his face twisted in an internal fight. He took a shuddering breath, his eyes softened as he looked at Tony.

"And yet I keep trying." He swallowed hard. "For- for you." It was merely a whisper.

"For _me_?" Tony hissed, confusions seeping into his anger. "What-?“

He swayed, steadying himself against Steve‘s chest. Which was a mistake. He could smell him: a hint of cologne but mostly warm, salty skin.

"Yes, for you,“ Steve murmured, "not that it makes any difference." His head thudded against the stone, resignation showing in his every feature.

Tony stared at him, anger and confusion slowly bleeding out of him. 

Snapshots of the past weeks flashed behind his eyes. All those nights, keeping him company when he couldn't sleep. Steve's understanding behavior, his support of Tony's work, his general change in attitude. At first he had thought, it was just that they were all too worn out, too exhausted to argue. But even though they still didn’t agree on everything, they had managed to discuss things like adults, without shouting or insulting each other. 

He inhaled deeply, letting this sudden realization settle. He searched Steve's eyes, blue as the sky above. And just as beautiful.

"Oh shit," he murmured, taken aback. Steve huffed an unamused laugh.

"That's a way to put it," he said dryly.

Tony leaned back, letting his gaze run over Steve, whose eyes were screwed shut. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his mouth was pressed tightly together. He looked older than he was. 

"Shit," Tony whispered again, understanding slowly forming in his mind. He dropped his head against Steve's chest; absently he noticed how his breath hitched and he could almost hear his heartbeat increasing.

The world around them vanished; the only thing that mattered was the man in front of him, warm, solid and utterly terrified.

So was Tony. He had to admit that he was scared out of his depths and emotionally compromised. That had never really stopped him before. He lifted his head, staring at Steve who hadn't moved. Tony swallowed hard. 

"You know," he said conversationally, ignoring the pitch in his voice, "I wished I could keep hating you." He took a step towards Steve, dizzy with his scent. "Would make lots of things much easier."

Steve tensed, brows drawn together in confusion, eyes still closed.

Tony reached out, resting his shaking hand against the side of Steve's face. Steve's eyes flew open, meeting Tony's.

"So much easier," Tony whispered as he leaned in, his lips easily finding Steve's. A shock went through Tony as their mouths touched, and he suddenly felt very alive.

Steve went utterly still, even his chest beneath Tony's hand stopped moving.

"Breathe, you idiot," Tony murmured against his lips, losing himself in the feeling of soft, warm skin.

Steve took a shuddering breath through his nose.

"That's my man," Tony whispered, licking against the closed seam of Steve's mouth. "A bit more participation wouldn't go amiss," he teased, ignoring the wavering of his voice.

Steve growled, a low noise that was more sensation than actual sound. His arms came around Tony's waist, and he spun them around, pressing Tony against the stone. He yelped at the manhandling, but Steve's hungry mouth on his made him forget it instantly. 

Steve kissed like he did everything else: earnest and thorough, with a single-minded focus that took Tony's breath away.

His hands grappled for a hold; Steve's shoulders were too broad, his back too wide. Steve was pressing him against the stone, basically holding him in place with nothing but his chest. Finally Tony gave up, sliding his hands into Steve's short hair. Faintly he felt himself being pushed up further, feet dangling in the air now.

He huffed a laugh against Steve's mouth, but even that didn't bother Steve. And so Tony just went with it, let himself get lost in needy kisses, which seared through his body like fire, burning out the pain and the losses, leaving a warmth he hadn't felt in years.

He was held by strong arms, warm skin against his, and for the first time in forever he felt safe.

Steve's fingers were in Tony's hair. He started mouthing over Tony's neck, a soft hum coming from him. Tony wasn't sure whether it was an actual sound or just Steve's frame trembling harder and harder the more he explored Tony's body.

"Woah, slow down there, soldier," he murmured as Steve unceremoniously shoved a thigh between Tony's legs. The feeling of it almost blew a fuse in his brain, the pressure was just perfect. He growled, stealing another hard kiss from Steve's lips before gently pushing him back.

Steve almost dropped him as he stumbled back. Tony had never seen anything more breathtaking. Steve's face was glowing, his cheeks red which only made his blue eyes appear even brighter. His hair was a mess, sticking out every which way. He was breathing hard, and Tony could see his pulse racing in the vein on his neck. 

Tony bit back a grin. He did that. He'd taken Captain America's breath away and made him squirm because he wasn't able to hide the growing erection in his tight jeans.

He looked up and met Tony's eyes. For a long moment they just stared at each other, neither of them able to say anything.

But then Steve clenched his jaw, fingers curling into loose fists, and Tony groaned inwardly. He'd seen that reaction too many times - Captain America, gearing up for a fight.

"Was that enough participation for you?" Steve said, voice almost normal. 

Tony sighed, lifting his hands. "Steve-"

"Because I would really like to participate more," Steve interrupted, a slow smile spreading over his face. He reached out, running an unsteady finger along Tony's jaw. The gentle touch made him shiver. Tony stared at him in confusion. 

"I'm getting all sorts of mixed signals here, Cap," he croaked.

Steve laughed quietly, eyes blazing blue fire. He framed Tony's face with his hands; they felt huge on his cheeks.

"Oh Tony." His smile was incredibly soft, the expression in his eyes so painfully honest and hopeful, Tony almost averted his eyes. Almost.

"Do you have any idea how impossible you are?" he asked gently. "You're right with one thing. Arguing with you was easier. Growing closer after all these years? Finally being allowed to see the man behind the mask, getting to know the real you? It's driving me crazy to be close to you and not being able to tell you-, show you how much I want you. I never thought you'd ever return my feelings, so I kept them in check." Steve said, thumb caressing Tony's cheek. "And then you started opening up, letting me in. And I thought-, I hoped-", he shrugged helplessly. His expression wavered, and Tony saw a million different emotions flicker over his face, insecurity and doubt the strongest of them all.

Tony's heart hurt at the sight of it and he leaned in, kissing him again. Slow and gentle, as if he could break any second. And he would if Tony wasn't careful.

"Hoped that I may want you too?" Tony asked as he pulled away enough to speak.

Steve nodded sharply, once again holding his breath.

"Steve," Tony noticed the shiver that shook Steve at the mention of his name. He made a mental note of it.

"Steve, you are driving me crazy. Not in the way you'd hoped, probably." Steve shrank back, but Tony tutted him, pulling him close again. "Not back then. You made my blood boil like nobody else. Your righteousness made my stomach turn, and more often than not I wanted to punch you in your perfect teeth. But that was before I came back. And you were still there, with all your golden boy attitude and your stupid goodness. Then you went off to chase the purple madman across the universe. Despite the quite astonishingly high chance of getting killed, you went out there, idiotically fearless, trying to save us, and you came back alive. And the longer I thought about it -which I certainly didn't-," he grinned as Steve snorted, "the more I realized something. I kept telling myself that I couldn't possibly want someone who drives me up the wall basically every day. But then you made me coffee in the middle of the night, and breakfast in the morning, and you kept me company during a time when even * _I_ * wouldn't want to be around me. You never complained, you never gave up on me. You always had my back. Of course I want you. How can I not? You've kept me sane. You've kept me alive. I wouldn't know where I'd be without you, Steve." He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling deeply. 

Steve's mouth on his surprised him, but he easily melted into the kiss, letting Steve’s warm lips and gentle tongue soothe the painful honestly of his last words.

Steve smiled as he pulled back, dark eyes encouraging him to continue. So he did.

"I'm sure there will be lots of fights in our future, lots of yelling and hurt feelings. But nothing we can't handle. Look at us - we _can_ manage. And that's even without sleeping together." He winked, rather weakly, but Steve only kept smiling at him. "I'm very willing to do all that. For you. With you. So I'm telling you: Yes, I want you. All of you. For as long as you are willing to endure me."

Steve huffed a watery laugh.

"I've been enduring you for a long time already, Tony, I'm sure I can manage."

Tony grinned, stealing another kiss.

"Good. So can I. As long as I can hold you, kiss you-" he ran a hand down Steve's chest, "-touch you, we'll be fine." Tony kissed him again, biting at Steve's lower lip, making him growl. "God, I want to take you apart, bit by maddeningly bit."

He grinned as he watched Steve blush, who didn't look away even though he wanted to - Tony could see that. Instead he pulled him impossibly closer, sealing his lips over Tony's once more.

The smiles on their face made it hard to kiss properly. They still tried which resulted in soft complaints on both sides. Eventually Steve shook his head, nipping on Tony's lip one last time.

"Take me home, Tony," he said huskily.

Tony stared at him. "Captain Rogers, I’m shocked, that’s rather forward of you," he teased. Steve glared at him, and Tony smiled. "You sure? I mean, there's nothing I'd rather do, but I wanted to take you out first. Breakfast, maybe? Do this properly."

Steve quirked a smile, rubbing his neck, one of his very few tell-tale signs of insecurity.

"I'm pretty sure we can just skip all the formalities. We've been dancing around each other for too long. Plus-," a deep sadness settled on his face, and Tony instantly reached out for his hand. "I don't wanna waste any more time," Steve said quietly.

Tony understood immediately. They'd been through rough times, each and every one of them, and they all had lost too much. And even though the threat was gone and the world was safe, there was still that sense of urgency in all of them. Tony felt it himself: the need to grasp at everything that meant something and hold it tight, not wanting to lose what little was left.

He saw all that mirrored in Steve's face, and he nodded.

"I can work with that," he said with a soft smile. He held out his hand. Steve put his into it, curling his fingers around Tony's. "Come on then, Cap, let me take you home."

And despite the sarcasm, Steve squeezed his hand, letting himself be led towards the car.

***

Steve shot up in bed, slapping a hand over his mouth. He quickly scanned the room, but everything was quiet. 

"Friday?“ he asked softly, "did I scream?“ 

"No, Captain Rogers,“ the AI said quietly. 

He fell back into bed, trying to calm his racing heart. When he finally felt in control again, he stood up and walked into the bathroom. He splashed water in his face, staring blindly into the mirror. 

He usually didn't remember the nightmares that woke him, but this one was still lingering. Knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, he pulled on some sweatpants and left his room. 

The compound was asleep; the few people still living there were all scattered around the expansive grounds. They all had their own nightmares and nobody wanted to wake anyone who managed to sleep through the night. So every quarter was as far away from the next as possible. 

The common room was dark, but Steve knew his way around. A soft sound made him jump. 

"So we meet again," Tony muttered with a sinister cackle as he turned the chair in a poor villain imitation. Steve glared wordlessly at him, hand over his racing heart. 

Tony's gaze swept over Steve and the grin vanished. "Tea or coffee?“ he asked, setting his own mug down. Steve felt the tension in his shoulders easy as Tony got up, walking towards him. 

"Tea sounds better,“ he said. 

"Tea‘s for the weak, Rogers,“ Tony murmured even as he reached for the kettle. 

"Says the one drinking it,“ Steve shot back, having smelt no coffee in the still air. 

"Hush, that‘s a secret,“ Tony smirked, refilling the kettle and clicking it on. He leaned against the counter, dark eyes on Steve. 

Steve ignored him as he pulled a mug from the shelf; Tony pushed the tea bags still sitting on the counter towards him. The kettle clicked off and Tony stepped closer, filling Steve‘s mug. A warmth filled Steve as he watched Tony reach for the sugar. 

"Two for tea, right?“ 

Steve nodded, suddenly not trusting his voice. Tony instantly noticed. He stepped closer, peering into Steve‘s face. 

"Bad one?“ he asked in a hushed voice. 

Steve nodded; no need to sugarcoat it. Tony knew him too well by now. 

Tony made a soothing noise. "C‘mere,“ he whispered, and Steve easily stepped into his personal space. 

Tony wrapped his arms around him, and Steve slumped against him, breathing in deeply. Tony always smelled different. Tonight it was his ridiculous expensive shower gel and the faint iron smell of metal. But underneath it all was the warm scent of skin and salt which always calmed Steve. He nuzzled against the side of Tony‘s neck, making him huff a laugh. Steve pulled back enough to look at him. His hair was a mess, and there was a smear of something dark next to his ear. He looked tired, and yet his eyes were shining with something deep and warm as he easily caught Steve's eyes. 

"You‘re gorgeous“ Steve whispered, filled with a sudden need to let him know. 

Tony smirked, running his hands through Steve‘s hair. 

"And you‘re delirious, Captain. Your tea‘s getting cold.“ Despite the darkness Steve could see Tony blushing. It made his heart rate go up again. This time not out of fear. 

"Fuck the tea,“ he growled, enjoying how Tony‘s eyes widened in mock shock. 

"Watch your language, Captain,“ he said around a barely contained grin. 

Steve didn't reply. He pulled Tony closer, one hand cradling the side of his face. The grin faded, and he straightened his back so they were eye to eye.

Steve felt Tony‘s breath hitch as he gently applied pressure with the hand on his back, leaving barely any space between their bodies. 

"Do you even know what you‘re doing to me when you call me that?“ Steve murmured, noses bumping as he leaned closer. 

Tony‘s low laugh made heat curl in Steve‘s stomach. 

"Of course I do, why do you think I call you Captain, _Captain_?“ he replied hoarsely, hands roaming over Steve‘s shoulder before settling in his hair. 

The heat in Steve‘s stomach spread through his body, warming his cold hands. 

"But do you know what‘s even better?“ Tony asked, leaning closer to speak right into Steve‘s ear. "The shivers you get when I call you _Steve_.“ 

Steve growled; he couldn't help it. His hands in Tony‘s hair tightened as he leaned closer, capturing his mouth in a hard kiss. 

Tony groaned, his entire body slumping against Steve‘s. Tony‘s lips were soft, moving with purpose over Steve‘s. A dark moan filled the air, reverberating around them like echoes. 

Tony‘s tongue slid over Steve‘s lower lip, and with a sigh he opened his mouth. Tony tasted like tea and kissed like a drowning man. He barely felt his fingers digging into his scalp. Heat rushed through his body, setting his skin on fire. 

"Wanna go back to bed, Captain?“ Tony muttered between kisses. Steve felt his erection pressing against his own. "I have a few ideas how to keep nightmares at bay.“ 

Without a word Steve hitched Tony up, who instantly wrapped his legs around Steve‘s waist. Still kissing, he stumbled back to their room where they fell on the bed. 

Tony immediately went for Steve‘s shirt, pawing at it with a desperation that made Steve's heart clench. He wrapped his hands around Tony‘s wrists, stopping him from tearing the worn shirt. 

"Slow down,“ he said, pulling him into a long kiss. Tony exhaled through his nose and melted against Steve‘s chest. 

"Your show then,“ he muttered, rolling in his back, eyes twinkling even in the dimness of the room. 

"Ours,“ Steve replied, slipping his hands under Tony‘s ratty shirt. He sighed at the softness of Tony‘s skin. He started peppering kisses over every bit of revealed skin. Tony squirmed under his touch, soft sounds falling from his parted lips. 

He pushed the shirt over Tony‘s head and then sat back, pulling his own shirt off. Tony‘s gaze was roaming over his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

"Speaking of gorgeous,“ Tony said, reaching out, sliding his palms over Steve‘s shoulders and down his arms. "You're not so bad yourself." 

Steve ducked his head, but didn't stop Tony as his fingers danced over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He held his breath as Tony scraped his nails gently over his stomach, making his erection jump. 

"Stunning, in fact,“ Tony murmured, pushing himself up, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on Steve‘s collarbone. "Breathtaking.“ A nip on his neck. "Outstanding.“ A scrape of teeth over Steve‘s nipples. Tony pulled him down, nimble hands pushing down their pants. Tony moaned as their skin touched, the sound desperate and needy. Steve dove into another kiss, hands sliding through Tony‘s hair, tugging not so gently. 

Tony growled; he had a thing for hair pulling and Steve enjoyed it more than he‘d let on. 

"You‘re a tease, Captain Rogers,“ Tony said, rolling his hips into Steve‘s. 

Steve chuckled, leaning down to lick into Tony‘S mouth which earned him another delicious moan. 

"You like it,“ he murmured against warm lips. Tony‘s fingers slid over Steve‘s back, squeezing his ass. 

"Maybe,“ he grumbled, pressing harder against Steve, setting his skin on fire with every desperate touch. "Are you going to do something about this-“ he bucked his hips, pressing his erection against Steve‘s, "-or is this a one man show after all?“ 

Steve grinned, wrapping his fingers around Tony‘s wandering hands and pressed them in to the mattress. "I will, if you stop wriggling.“ 

Tony froze, his gaze locking with Steve‘s. "Wriggling stopped,“ he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

"You‘re mad, you know that,“ Steve laughed, kissing the grin off Tony‘s mouth. 

"That‘s why you like me,“ he shot back, fingers curling around Steve‘s. 

"God help us all, I do,“ he replied. He shuffled a bit, gently pushing Tony‘s legs apart with his own. 

"Leave the deities out of the bedroom, Captain,“ Tony shot back, hips starting to move again. 

"Yes, sir,“ he said mockingly. Tony made a strangled sound and Steve felt his erection harden some more. Steve groaned, the feeling of Tony‘s body against his own no longer to be ignored. 

"Why look at that,“ he muttered as he kissed down Tony‘s neck, leaving soft bites along his shoulder, "another kink I can use for my advantage." 

"Steve,“ Tony whined, "stop teasing and touch me.“ Tony‘s voice had the desperate tinge to it, that Steve hadn't learned to withstand yet. 

"Yes, Tony,“ he whispered lowly; still astonished as to how much he enjoyed saying Tony‘s name like that. And the reaction was still as beautiful as the first time. 

Tony whimpered, his fingers scrambling for a hold. His eyes were squeezed shut, and there were small creases across his forehead. Then those beautiful brown eyes flew open and instantly locked with Steve‘s. 

He gasped at the sight of it. He used to see anger and loathing in them; after everything there had been only despair and hopelessness. Now he saw adoration and desire, a softness in those amber eyes he had always wished for. Now _he_ was the cause of it, was the one Tony looked at with something akin to what Steve had felt for such a long time. He pressed his forehead to Tony‘s, breathing him in, reveling in the wonderment that he was allowed to do this, see Tony like this. 

Steve shifted his weight, fingers slotting around Tony‘s, squeezing them hard. Tony whined again, straining against his grip, trying to lean up and kiss him. 

Steve captured his lips in a slow deep kiss, drawing it out as he started moving his hips, dragging his throbbing erection against Tony‘s. It wasn't perfect, the angle was wrong, but he was too far gone to stop and get the lube. Tony didn't seem to mind. He met everyone of Steve‘s moves enthusiastically, harsh moans filling the air around them. 

Faintly Steve noticed that he was whispering Tony‘s name over and over, making the man beneath him tremble harder every time. He was shaking as well, trying to keep his rhythm. Tony‘s hands slipped free and instantly went to Steve‘s ass, pressing him closer as they rutted against each other faster and faster. 

Tony tensed, unseeing eyes locking with Steve‘s as he came with a low moan. His head fell back and he clung to Steve as he rode out his orgasm. The soft little noises he made undid Steve as well, and he groaned deeply as his own orgasm rippled through him. 

He rolled off Tony to not crush him, his body shaking helplessly in the aftermath. Tony recovered faster and he curled around Steve, resting his cheek against Steve‘s chest. He felt gentle fingers run over his thigh, his stomach, before stopping over his heart. 

"Your heart‘s racing, Cap,“ Tony murmured, fingers tapping the rhythm against Steve‘s skin. 

"And whose fault is that?“ Steve chuckled sleepily. 

"Mine, I guess.“ Steve wondered whether he imagined the hint of pride in Tony‘s tone. "I always thought your heart would be as steady as clockwork. Guess I was wrong.“ 

"Just a normal heart,“ Steve said, Tony‘s warm presence lulling him in. "Nothing abnormal about it. 

Tony hummed softly, placing a tender kiss just over Steve‘s heart, making it stutter at the gesture. 

"Good, that‘s good.“ 

Steve drifted off to Tony muttering under his breath. 

***

Steve woke slowly, which was rare. The room was still dark, but he could see a sliver of light outside the windows. He shifted, enjoying the warmth of the bed. The soft snuffling next to him made him smile. Carefully he rolled on his side. Tony was still asleep, which didn't happen very often. Steve settled, just watching him. 

His hair was a riot, thoroughly disheveled by Steve's hand and rather fitful sleep. These days there was more silver in it, making the dark curls a rather beautiful grey. His face was soft, his lips slightly parted. His long lashes were fluttering softly; he was dreaming. There was a faint rash from Steve's beard on his neck. Steve had to push back the sudden urge to rub his face all over Tony's thighs, just to see the sensitive skin there redden as well. He breathed through the wild desire, and instead ran a slightly shaking hand over the side of Tony's face. 

He mumbled, shifted and pushed into Steve's touch. He didn't mean to wake him, but as Tony's eyes fluttered open, golden-brown and unguarded in the soft morning light, he didn't have it in him to regret it. 

"Morning," he whispered, brushing his lips over Tony's. 

Tony muttered something unintelligible which probably translated to the same. Steve laughed, and Tony made a questioning sound.

"Nothing," Steve said, caressing Tony's face, "you're just so-" He didn't dare say 'sweet' even though he was. He settled for: "So not Tony-like when you just woke." 

Tony huffed, burying his face in Steve's neck, mouthing over his skin. 

"And very non-verbal," Steve added, pulling him into his arms. 

Tony bit him. 

"Yet very irritable." 

Tony growled against his neck, the arm around Steve tightening. 

"Clingy." 

Tony kicked him. 

"Aggressive." 

With a dark groan, Tony rolled on top of Steve, grinding his morning erection against Steve's own. 

"Salacious." 

Tony looked up, a smirk spreading over his sleepy face. 

"You're making words up now?" he asked huskily. 

Steve's hips moved on their own when they pushed up. Tony's voice in the morning did things to him he wasn't prepared for. 

"Not made up," he said, trying to control the trembling in his voice. 

Tony hummed, clearly not believing him. Steve didn't care. Tony was warm and willing, and for a while he forgot words altogether. 

Later when they untangled themselves, dropping soft kisses on glistening skin, Tony looked at him. 

"But really, 'salacious'? What the hell kind of word is that?" 

"Salacious: having or conveying undue or inappropriate interest in sexual matters", Friday unhelpfully provided, and they both stared at the ceiling, then at each other. They burst into laughter. 

"Thank you Friday," Steve wheezed between giggles, while Tony only shook his head. "I definitely don't remember programming her to provide a dictionary in the bedroom," he said, amusement making his eyes sparkle. 

"She's got to have it from someone," Steve suggested, trying to catch his breath. 

"Well, definitely not me," Tony replied, curling around Steve. "I should really look into her subroutine." 

"My subroutine is just fine, thank you for asking," Friday said cooly, making them burst into laughter once again. 

"Do you boys want breakfast?" came through the intercom at Steve's door. "I may have made some and too much of it." Natasha sounded smug. 

“Should we be worried?” Steve called back, but there was no reply. 

“Guess we have to find out ourselves,” Tony said, rolling out of bed. 

“It seems so.” Steve followed Tony. They quickly showered and got dressed, brushing their teeth side by side. Before they left the room, Tony pulled Steve into a brief kiss. 

“Good morning indeed,” he murmured, before he grabbed Steve’s hand, tangling their fingers tightly together as they wandered into the kitchen. 


End file.
